


A Succubus' Kiss

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2006-09-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8695453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: When a succubus kisses Sam, Dean is left to deal with the consequences. Pure smut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Title: A Succubus' Kiss  
Author: Kali  
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean  
Rating: NC-17  
Category: PWP  
Word Count: 3313  
Spoilers: None, I imagine this taking place between the pilot and the second episode.  
Summary: When a succubus kisses Sam, Dean is left to deal with the consequences. Pure smut.  
Notes/Warnings: I'm a bit worried about this, and not just because it's my first fic for the fandom. This is the first time I've written smut in more than one sitting, so if it feels a bit jerky and jumps around a bit, don't hesitate to tell me. Con crit and comments are always loved.  
  
  
Sam cursed quietly, shining his flashlight at the trees around him. He fucking _hated_ forests, he always got lost and he really didn’t want to be alone right now, with something supernatural lurking around. No, he wanted Dean at his side with a gun and a flippant remark. Sighing and grudgingly admitting that he was completely and utterly lost, Sam dug around in his pocket for his cell phone and speed-dialled Dean.  
  
“Where the hell are you, man?” Dean asked, forgoing the politeness of a hello.  
  
“I dunno. I went left a bit but it’s hard keeping in a straight line in this place.”  
  
A disgruntled sigh cackled across the line. “Fucking college boy-been too long since you hunted in a forest.”  
  
“Shut up, Dean, I-”   
  
He broke off suddenly, staring at the trees intently. He could swear that someone was watching him, his skin was prickling unpleasantly and the forest was just a little too quiet for his liking-no birds or animals moved around as if they’d been scared off.  
  
“Sam? What’s wrong?”   
  
“Sssh.” Tucking the flashlight under his arm, he unslung his shotgun from over his shoulder and aimed it at the trees in front of him, searching for some sign of movement. He could hear Dean’s breathing through the cell phone, slightly uneven, and he knew that it matched his own. He licked his lips, wondering if he had imagined it but knowing better than that. He turned around slowly, feeling the tension coil in his muscles, and all but screamed his head off when he found a woman standing barely a foot from him.  
  
She was small, almost waiflike, with pale, alabaster skin and white-blonde hair that fell past her hips. Her lips were blood-red and pouty, her eyes dark like obsidian disks. She was dressed in a white dress, thin and almost see-through. She stared, unblinking, at Sam for a long moment while Sam wondered why the hell he wasn’t shooting yet.  
  
“Dean,” he said in a tight, controlled voice, not taking his eyes off the woman. “There is a succubus standing right next to me.”  
  
“Fucking shit! Run the fuck away, Sammy! Nothing hurts a succubus like rejection so reject the fucking bitch!”  
  
The cell phone dropped to the ground, lying hidden in the grass, and Sam knew he should pick it up, or better yet, take Dean’s advice and run away. But he couldn’t, couldn’t move, couldn’t think, just stare at the woman as she smiled and took a small step towards him. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was quick and shallow and he fucking knew he should move but he just couldn’t.  
  
The woman’s kiss was soft and sweet, her lips moving gently against his and coaxing them to open. He whimpered and felt both the shotgun and flashlight slip from his hands. His eyes drifted closed and the world dissolved until all that existed was the woman’s lips on his.  
  
Somewhere inside his mind, a spark of rebellion flickered to life, a small shred of sanity fighting through the succubus’ kiss. He whimpered and willed his hands to move. His fingers twitched as he forced his muscles to respond. Growling, he raised his hands and pushed the succubus away, staggering back and wiping at his mouth. She fell to the ground, hair flinging over her face, and howled, a deep, agonising sound of pain and despair. She looked up at him, dark eyes burning with rage, and lunged. Sam reacted instinctively, letting her momentum push them both backwards to the ground, one foot coming up to her stomach and flipping her over. She vanished in mid-flip, dissolving into the air, leaving only the phantom memory of her kiss on his lips.  
  
Sam gasped, staring up at the sky with wide eyes. His lips burned with the memory of the succubus’ kiss, his skin aching for touch, his cock demanding for friction. It felt like his blood was boiling and he couldn’t think beyond the driving need for touch. He heard something crashing through the forst and he tried to think coherantely for just a second.  
  
“DEAN!”  
  
The sheer panic and urgency in his voice was enough to have Dean at his side in a few seconds, kneeling down and staring at him worridely.  
  
“Sammy, what’s wrong? What did that bitch do to you? Talk to me, dude!”  
  
A tear rolled down Sam’s cheek, his body aching to reach out and touch Dean, kiss him and fuck him, but the few remaining shreds of sanity he had left stopped him.  
  
“She-she-she kissed me! Fuck, Dean!”  
  
Dean’s eyes flew wide and he muttered a soft curse. He knew as well as Sam what happened when a succubus kissed you. Sam moaned and curled up in on himself while Dean tried to think. Numbly, he remembered the articles he’d read about people driven mad by the kiss. The thought of Sammy locked up somewhere in a padded room, huddled in the corner while he whimpered and moaned, pulled painfully at Dean’s heart. He thought of driving into town, finding someone there, but it would take too long and he wasn’t sure Sam would make it. Besides, Sam might be kind of rough in his present condition and he didn’t want some young waitress to get hurt. That left only one option and Dean thought he was going to be sick. He’d done some fucked up shit in his time, but fucking his own brother? Jesus Christ.  
  
Sam whimpered, loking up at him desperately with fearful, tear-bright eyes. It was that look that made up Dean’s mind for him. He’d deal with the consequences later, when Sam was better. Right now, he just needed to take care of his brother.  
  
Swallowing thickly, Dean reached out with one trembling hand and stroked his fingers down Sam’s cheek. Sam whimpered again, turning into the touch, almost against his own will. Hesitation gleamed in his eyes, but Dean shushed him quietly and trailed his fingers across Sam’s throat.  
  
“It’s okay, Sammy,” he whispered. “I’m here.”  
  
Reaching down with his other hand, Dean pushed Sam’s hoodie and tee shirt up to reveal the flesh underneath. He tried not to think about the fact that this was Sam, his fucking brother, as he ran his hand over Sam’s abs and up to his chest. He found a nipple and tweaked it lightly, not sure what Sam liked in the way of foreplay. If the answering gasp and shudder were any indication, he liked that very much. Moving his hand over to give the other nipple the same treatment, Dean let his eyes slide downwards.   
Even in the moonlit gloom he could see Sam’s erection pressing against the thick material of his jeans. He knew that Sam would be desperate for touch there more than anywhere else, but the mere thought had Dean shuddering and not in a good way. No, he decided, foreplay was good for now, time to work up to that. Sam seemed to be enjoying himself at any rat.   
  
Dragging his attention back to his hands, Dean helped Sam sit up and pull off his jacket, hoodie and tee shirt. His skin was pale in the moonlight, his chest rising and falling with harsh, shuddering breaths. Pushing Sam back down to the ground, Dean bent down and took one nipple in his mouth, his tongue washing over the hardened nub. A harsh bark of noise escaped Sam as he arched up, one hand tangling in Dean’s hair and holding him there. Dean didn’t protest, one hand toying with Sam’s other nipple as he licked and kissed and sucked and bit the one in his mouth. By the time he came up for air, Sam was writhing around on the ground and Dean had finally worked up the courage to unbutton Sam’s fly.   
  
Sam went strangely still, looking up at Dean with bright eyes that held only scorching lust with no sane thought remaining. Licking his lips, Dean forced his hand to move, burshing his fingertips over Sam’s length. Even that small act had Sam crying out and shivering. And Jesus, since when was Dean getting turned on by all this? He frowned, not liking the fact that he was actually getting hard at the sight of his baby brother panting and moaning like a whore. Maybe it as a side affect of the succubus’ kiss, a distant pat of his mind offered. Maybe it was infectious somehow.   
  
Latching on to that posiblity, Dean wrapped his hand fully around Sam’s erection and watched as his brother cried out sharply, hands scrabbling in the dirt as his whole body tensed and strained. Dean’s breath went out in a huge sigh and he slowly began to stroke Sam’s cock, mesmerised by the sounds he was able to wring out of his brother-whimpers, groans, gasps, curses, an endless stream of noise.  
  
“D-Dean… not-not…”  
  
Dean paused, hand going still, watching closesly as Sam struggled with the words. He leaned over, stroking his fingers over Sam’s cheek again. He was startled to find the wet traces of tears, but then Samwas grabbing him and mashing their mouths together in a harsh, brutal kiss full of tongue and teeth and pure, red-hot lust. Dean was the first one to break away, dragging in deep breaths of the cold air, but Sam didn’t let him get far.  
  
“Not enough,” he bit off savagely, his hands still tangled in Dean’s hair. “Need… need… please…”  
  
“What, Sammy? What do you need? Talk to me!  
  
Sam shook his head, trying to think through the electric fireworks searing his mind.he couldn’t remember the right words, how to say what he wanted. All he knew was that he wanted… wanted Dean… God, he wanted so much.  
  
Groaning, Sam began pushing at his jeans, wanting the horribly restricting things off. Dean helped, and within moments they were being tossed to the side, followed quickly by his boxers. Dean whispered a reverent curse at the sigh of his brother sprawled out before him, moonlight splashing onto his muscles. Sam grabbed at Dean’s hand and guided it between his legs, bucking and crying out when Dean’s fingertips brushed against his entrance. Finally understanding what Sam needed, Dean felt dizzy as lust coursed through his veins. Images of what was about to happen flashed through his mind and he licked his lips again, slowly pushing one finger inside and drinking in the way Sam keened and twitched.   
  
Dean leaned down to kiss Sam, but found himself going for his neck instead, biting down just over the jugular and feeling the sharp taste of blood fill his mouth. Sam was panting now, dragging in each breath as if it were his last, and Dean wondered how the hell he could possibly be this aroused and not come yet. The succubus’ kiss was a twisted little thing and Dean could see how it could drive a person mad, watching Sam writhe and moan as if every sensation was just a little too much to handle. Realising that Sam was moving freely now, having adjusted to Dean’s finger, he slowly added a second, listening to Sam’s breathless moan before biting down on Sam’s chest, just above the right nipple.  
  
He busied himself for a few minutes biting several places on Sam’s neck and chest whilst slowly opening him up with his fingers, but then Sam grabbed his face and glared at him with an almost frightening intensity.  
  
“Fuck me now,” he growled and Dean wondered for a second where that moment of foreceful coherancy had come from, because an instant later Sam was back to writhing and moaning and acting as if he were about to come any second if he could just have a tiny little bit more something.  
  
Never one to disobey orders, Dean removed his fingers and quickly undressed, tossing his clothes on top of Sam’s before laying down on top of Sam. And then, with Sam’s legs wrapped around his waist and his hands gripping his biceps hard enough to bruise, Dean realised in a startling moment of crystaline clarity that he was about to fuck his brother. There were so many things wrong with that, he couldn’t even begin to list them all. He hesitated, not sure if this actually was the right thing, if there was another way out of this mess, but then Sam took the decision right out of his hands.   
  
He moaned deep in his throat and twisted his hips in a way that Dean couldn’t quite figure out and the next second, Sam’s tight, wet heat was enveloping Dean’s cock and the world went white as the sensation overloaded his mind and he couldn’t think beyond the amazingly soft friction. He gasped, struggling to breathe, and he might’ve shouted something, a plea, a cuss, or even Sam’s name, but it was lost amid the amazing sounds coming from Sam’s lips.   
  
Dean blinked, forcing himself to focus on his brother, and saw that Sam had thrown his head back, staring up at the sky with an expression that bordered on rapture. Bending his head to place a surprisingly gentle kiss on the column of Sam’s throat, Dean tried a tentative roll of his hips and was rewarded with shuddering moan. Gasping from the sensations, Dean made another thrust and learnt from the sounds Sam made what felt good and what felt absolutely fucking great. He tried to make it slow and gentle, not exactly his normal style but then, this was not exactly a normal situation. He had to remind himself that this was only happening because of the succubus’ kiss, that if he were thinking straight, Sam wouldn’t be lying there beneath him. But Sam was moving in such delicious ways, rising up to meet his thrusts, straining up to grab that extra little bit of feeling, and Dean found it hard to keep his control.  
  
Dean grunted, one hand digging deep in the dirt by Sam’s head whilst the other tortured his brother’s nipples, pulling and twisting and pinching and loving the reactions it sparked.   
  
“Need… need… Dean…”  
  
The whispers were barely more than harsh breaths shaped into some vauge semblance of words but Dean understood anyway, leaving Sam’s nipples alone to grab hold of his cock. Something subtle changed within Sam, the thin, razor-sharp edge he’d been dancing on since this started taking on a harsher tone. Dean couldn’t describe it, knew that there wasn’t really that much difference in Sam’s reactions, but he knew that his brother was close now. He had what he needed, finally, and now he just needed to finish this, to work off the succubus’ twisted spell.  
  
“Do it, Sam,” he hissed, speeding up his pace until he was grunting with every thrust. “Come for me. Wanna see you come, baby brother.”  
  
There wasn’t any warning, Sam was just suddenly tensing up as if he was about to have a heart attack and two fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he let out a long, ragged scream, a guttural sound of pure, raw pleasure. The last thing Dean saw before the world exploded with pleasure was Sam falling back to the ground in a near faint.  
  
\---  
  
When Dean came too, he was surprised to find that he was cuddled up next to his brother, spooning him from behind. His first instinct was to jerk away because really, he was not the cuddling type, btu then he realised that he was in the middle of a forest, naked, with semen drying on his stomach, and memory rushed back to him.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Sam’s shoulder for a minute as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was going to do when Sam woke up. Then he realised that it wouldn’t help matters if Sam woke up naked in the middle of a forest.   
  
Forcing himself to focus on the now and not the later, he got up and quickly dressed, brushing dirt of his skin and clothes. Then he dressed Sam and tried to do so whilst not actually looking at his brother. His car was parked at the edge of the forest which was good because he did not like the idea of dragging Sam a mile and a half back into the town.  
  
Dean reached down and grabbed Sam’s wrists, throwing him over his shoulder and grunting with the effort. He wished he could complain but it was all solid muscle, no fat, so he just sighed and began trekking through the forest whiile trying again to figure out how to deal with this mess. He was surprised to realise that he was strangely comfortable with what had happened. It’s not as if he’d just decided to jump his brother, Sam had been in trouble and if having sex with him was the only way to save his sanity, so be it. Besides, it had been fucking hot.  
  
Sam, however, didn’t tend to see things that way, and he didn’t want him pulling away and doing that whole brooding thing. He wished he knew how he could fix this, but he realised that he couldn’t even attempt that until he saw Sam’s reaction.  
  
Sighing in relief when his car came into view and trudged the last few feet before fumbling the door open and letting Sam fall on to the back seat. Taking a moment to get his breath back, Dean wiped sweat off his forehead and shrugged off his jacket and shirt, tossing them onto the back seat with Sam before climbing in to the driver’s seat.  
  
The drive back into town was surprisingly peaceful and when he carried Sam to their motel, he was able to grin cockily at the clerk and mutter something about Sam not being able to handle his alcohol. Lying Sam gently on the bed, Dean quickly washed his stomach and then splashed some cold water on his face before sitting down to wait for Sam to wake up.  
  
It was an agonising wait, and Dean thought more than once about dunking Sam’s head in cold water just to see if that would help. It probably wouldn’t, his body and mind needed to work off the remaining tendrils of the succubus’ magic and he wouldn’t wake up until he was pure again.  
  
Night had fallen by the time Sam had started to stir, and Dean was gluging down the last mouthfuls of cold coffee. He nearly chocked and quickly set the Styrofoam cup aside, leaning forward and watching as Sam twitched and groaned, fighting his way back to the waking world. He reached out blindly to scrub at his eyes before going completely still. Dean could almost see him remembering what had happened, little cogs in his brain clicking and whirring.  
  
“Oh fuck.”   
  
Letting his hand fall, Sam opened his eyes and sat up, staring at Dean through a thick tangle of dark hair. Dean waited silently, waiting for Sam’s final verdict. After a long minute, Sam’s lips twisted in a weird smile and he shook his head.  
  
“I hate succubi.” He stood up and stretched, pretending not to notice Dean’s frown.  
  
“Sammy? Are you-”  
  
“My ass hurts. I’m taking a shower.”   
  
Well fuck, there wasn’t much he could say to that, was there? Sam was apparently going to borrow his rule of ‘No Chick flick moments’ and just not mention the whole thing. He did, however, pause in the doorway to the small bathroom, though he didn’t turn around.  
  
“Thanks, Dean,” he muttered quietly, before slamming the door and effectively ending the conversation. Dean grinned and decided that if Sam wouldn’t mention it, neither would he. And if he happened to have a few stray dreams about it, well, he was a red-blooded male and that really couldn’t be helped, could it?  
 


End file.
